


In the Shadows

by daughteroflilith



Series: Songs of Innocence and Experience [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Demon Sex, F/F, Fempreg, Gentle Horror Elements, Mother of Demons, Oral Sex, Succubi & Incubi, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Fingering, magic baby, some heartbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 14:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20658902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughteroflilith/pseuds/daughteroflilith
Summary: A heartbroken woman meets a succubus in a bar and has a night of passion. A few weeks later she misses her period.





	In the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> The erotica is in the first part and the rest is plot. There are horror elements but everything works out alright, sort of.

Shakespeare wrote, “the course of true love never did run smooth.” As far as I could tell, the course of false love didn’t either. I hadn’t even been dumped this time, not really. I’d left of my own accord. She’d given me reasons though, plenty of reasons. 

I suppose I should have been celebrating my newfound freedom. Instead I was feeling like shit and questions all of my life choices, or at least my taste in women. Hell, what had I expected dating a rock musician? Well, not a lot but I had expected something. 

We’d even had an open relationship. She could fool around as much as she wanted when she was on the road, and I could do the same when she was gone. There had been rules though, and exes had been off limits. Apparently that wasn't a rule she could hold to. The fact that I had caught her with my ex, had been a whole new level of humiliation. 

The sole consolation I had was that they deserved each other. On the upside, we also hadn’t shared an apartment, so for once a heartbreak didn’t mean I needed to move any of my crap. I’d started the evening by trying to get drunk in my own apartment. I’d quickly discovered I had exactly two beers in my refrigerator and one was pumpkin flavored and left over from a party the previous October. 

I drank the normal beer and decided I wasn’t heart broken enough for the pumpkin one. I grabbed my coat and headed out to a nearby bar. I probably spent far too much time at the Wobbly Spoke. It had everything a girl could want in a bar, a large patio, tons of micro brewed beers on tap, sufficiently greasy german esc food, and a lack of outdoor speakers. 

I settled into a table at the far edge of the patio with a dark beer that was nearly strong enough to be wine and a board of sausage, pretzels and mustard that had enough calories for several meals. 

It was normally a chill enough place no one ever bothered me. That night the hunch of my shoulders and scowl on my face should have been enough to scare off any would be suitors. 

One young man, suit coat over his arm like he’d just come from the office, didn’t appear to take the hint. Maybe he just had a thing for women in faded denim jackets. 

He sat down across from me. “What are you drinking? Can I get you another?”

I looked up, eyes narrowed. I’m sure they were red rimmed, “No.”

He tried for a charming smile, which probably worked pretty well when he was wiser in what woman he approached. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“I do.”

He realized his mistake but seemed uncertain how to back away.

I almost felt bad, I’m not normally a rude person. “Listen, I’ve just had a really shitty day and want to be left alone, okay?”

“Ah, sorry. Have a nice night.” He beat a hasty retreat. 

I returned to my brooding and questionable food choices. 

I heard the chair across from shift as someone sat down. “So, you bite huh?” It was a woman’s voice.

I looked up and then had to do a double take. Most nights the woman of my dreams doesn’t just waltz over to my table, especially not at some random bar. 

She had ginger hair, cut just long enough to curl, closer in color to unrusted copper than orange. Her face was on the lean side, with high cheekbones and full lips. It was hard to tell in the dim light but her eyes looked like some rich dark color. The smile she offered showed straight and oddly sharp white teeth. 

Even seated, I could tell she was tall and had the kind of build my ex drank too much and never went to the gym enough achieve, all lean muscles and easy strength. Her shoulders were broad and she looked like she could have carried me to bed. 

She wore a battered leather jacket over a Tegan and Sarah concert t-shirt and faded jeans. She wore brown leather cowboy boots that reminded me of the girl I’d lost my virginity too a lifetime of summers ago during a summer spent working on a ranch.

She was too perfect, I was clearly hallucinating. I hoped I wasn’t drooling. 

She offered me her hand. 

“Hi, I’m Adie.”

“Um, I’m Annie.” I managed as I took her hand.

“Nice to meet you Annie.” Damn if she didn’t brush her thumb against my palm. I thought people only did that in bad romance novels. “So tell me, what brings you here tonight?”

And suddenly I found myself telling her exactly why I was there. As a general rule, telling a woman you’ve just broken up with an ex is not a good way to get into her pants. Adie just sat there patiently listening, nodding every so often and looking very interested. 

At one point she reached for my beer and took a sip. Normally that kind of thing would have bothered me, but that night it didn’t. Every so often she would reach out and touch my hand or arm and I would just lean closer. 

I wanted her, I wanted her so much. I didn’t even know what to do, aside from keep talking. I was afraid she’d leave if I stopped. 

At last, when my beer was gone she stood, leaning over the table to tilt my chin up and kiss me. It was a light, almost questioning kiss at first. When I responded she deepened it. I felt my skin flush and my pulse quicken. She could have taken me then and there on that table and I’d have begged her for it. 

“Take me home?” she whispered in my ear.

I grabbed her hand and hurried us both out of there. I had never been more glad that my apartment was close by. I was so eager that when we reached my front door my hands shook when I tried to unlock the door. Gently she took the key from me and unlocked the door for me, dropping the key into the bowel on the hall table and closing the door once we were inside. 

“Do you want a drink or a coffee?” I asked. I really hoped she didn’t. I wanted her so badly, I thought I would die if she didn’t start touching me but I had been raised with manners and damn if you weren’t supposed to offer a guest a drink. 

Her chuckle was as sweet and warm as honey. “I’m fine, if you would like to show me to the bedroom though?”

I did, realizing only as we stepped into the small room that I had laundry everywhere. She didn’t seem to notice, instead she drew me into her arms, kissing me again. I felt my legs go weak. 

As if on cue she scooped me up with surprising strength and carried me the last few steps to the bed, setting me down and crawling over me. I scrambled at her clothes as she seemed to undress me effortlessly. I was too lost to need to think about how old the bra I had on was or that my underwear were faded. 

At least I was confident about the body beneath my clothes. The skinniness of my twenties had faded but I was still a runner and slight in build. I liked the fullness that my early thirties had brought to my chest and hips and had yet to hear any complaints. 

When I got her clothes off, her body took my breath away. She was the perfect mix of soft and hard, flat stomach and muscled arms, small breasts that fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. She had a tattoo of a snake on one that made me smile and trace it with my fingers. An odd thought struck me that I had once read a romance novel where a character had a tattoo just like that. Hers looked exactly as I had pictured the one in the book. 

When my hands got lower she made a low sound of pleasure as my fingers found her clit. She rolled us before I could do much though. 

“I want you first,” she whispered kissing me again and then leaning back to look at me. When she told me I was beautiful, I nearly cried. My ex hadn’t said anything like that in a long, long time. She tugged out my ponytail, running her fingers through my dirty blond hair. It was brown than blond now but I had never bothered dying it. She took her time, kissing me everywhere, her lips nearly as warm as a candles flame. She did amazing things to my nipples with that mouth. I luxuriated in the feeling even as I nearly begged her to hurry up. When at last she nudged me legs open I nearly sobbed. 

She was very, very, talented with her tongue. She knew exactly what to do without being told. She began lighty, mostly teasing, as she methodically licked up the inside of one inner labia and then down the other. 

When she finally found my clit, lightly pressing the tip of her tongue in a circle, I clutched at the sheets. When she finally began to press as hard as I wanted her to I nearly pulled the sheets from the bed. 

She kept working me like that, sometimes shifting from licking to sucking on my clit, at first gently and then hard enough to draw gasps and moans from me. She brought me to the edge and then kept me there. 

“Please!” I wasn’t even sure what I was asking. She knew though, pressing two and then three fingers into me, pumping her fingers in and out but also curling them forward every so often, hitting just the right spot. 

Normally I couldn’t always come with a new partner, at least not easily. This time though, my orgasm crashed over me effortlessly. I cried out loud enough to annoy the neighbors and clenched on her fingers. 

She kept working me, adding a fourth finger, fucking harder without needing to be told to. I came again, thing time tugging on the bottom sheet so hard it did come up. I ached to grab her, dig my nails into those strong shoulders. I knew better than to do that to a lover without asking and I had no hope to form words. 

As that orgasm began to fade, caught up in the start of another I lifted my head enough to look at her. For an instant, her image seemed to shimmer and for half a breath I could have sworn I was looking into eyes the color of a harvest moon set in darkness as deep as the moment before sleep. Then my own eyes closed in the throws of passion and could think of nothing as my pleasure took me. 

I slumped onto the bed bonelessly. She drew me into her arms as if we had been lovers for years, not less than an hour. Her skin was so warm against my own. I ached to touch her, do the same for her as she had for me, but I couldn’t find the strength to move. 

I could feel myself starting to drift off, “Don’t let me sleep,” I mumbled.

“Sh,” she whispered. “Rest. I don’t mind.”

“Touch, you...I want to…” I managed and then my eyes drifted shut.

I woke alone, light streaming in through the half closed blinds. When I stretched my entire body still felt languid and sated. I yawned, loudly. When I rose, I nearly stumbled. I felt shaky, almost drained, as if it were my first day well after a long illness. 

I looked about for any sign of her, a note, or even just a forgotten article of clothing. I had nothing, not even a last name to help me find her on facebook. Well, what had I expected of a one night stand, especially one I hadn’t gotten off?

I went and made coffee, sitting at my tiny table. Honestly, what had come over me the night before? I’d never been the sort of lover to just pass out after an orgasm, although admittedly I didn’t normally have three in a row. Still I couldn’t help but curse myself for having missed a chance to properly touch and explore a woman that gorgeous. 

Well, it was done. I still couldn't help but hope I’d see her again, although when or how I had no idea. 

When my period was late two weeks later, I was not immediately concerned. It had never been all that reliable. While I had never skipped one, it would sometimes show up a week early or late, especially if I had plans to travel or go to a water park. One of the few advantages to being a lesbian was that I could know, with absolute certainty, that a late period meant my body was just fucking with me, not that I was pregnant. 

I was mildly surprised when my period did not come that month, even though I went on a work trip. I kept getting weird PMS like symptoms, feeling tired and moody, my breasts feeling achy and swollen, that kind of thing. When I missed a second period I began to get worried that something was wrong. 

I called my doctor, Dr. Smith. After assuring her that I could not under any circumstances be pregnant, she told me not to worry but to come in if my period didn’t start in a week. My symptoms got worse. I felt more and more tired, my body ached, I started throwing up in the mornings.

When I went to my appointment Dr. Smith seemed a little worried. She said I’d lost weight. She said it could be my thyroid or something and sent me to get a number of tests, including a pregnancy test. I decided it was easier just to pee in a cup than argue. 

A day later, I got a call from my doctor. She asked me to sit down before she would tell me what was going on.

“You’re pregnant. I want you to come back in so I can do an exam to confirm it.”

“That’s physically impossible.”

“Your sure?” She didn’t sound convinced. “It showed up in a urine and blood test.”

“Yes,” I ground out. “Either the tests are wrong or someone mixed up the files.”

“I think you should come back in for another exam and test.” 

I went back. I peed in a cup and had blood drawn again. I put my feet in those stupid metal stirups. Dr. Smith seemed very convinced I was pregnant. I was starting to feel like I was in some bizzaro land. I got more worried when she asked if I’d ever blacked out or lost time. 

I told her I hadn’t. She seemed troubled but let it go. She wanted to do was an ultrasound, so I grudgingly agreed. Hopefully it would convince her I wasn’t pregnant and then she’d figure out what was actually wrong with me. She rubbed gel on my stomach and started waving a plastic wand over it. 

As far as I could tell the screen showed a bunch of blurry lines. The doctor kept waving the little wand thing and frowning more and more. She mumbled under her breath. “That’s weird.”

“What is?”

“There’s nothing there.”

“What do you mean?” I asked half sitting up.

She kept wanding. “There’s no gestational sac.”

I was a bit past irritated. “Yes, perhaps because I’m _ not _pregnant!” 

She kept frowning at the screen. “This doesn’t make any sense. All the other tests were positive.” She wanded a bit longer, called in another doctor to look at the screen and then gave up. After the nurse helped me wipe the gel of my flat stomach and Dr. Smith sat down and talked to me. She was chewing on her lip nervously. 

“If you weren’t so adamant that you can’t be pregnant I would think you were showing signs of pseudocyesis.”

“Pseudo what?”

“A false or phantom pregnancy.”

“I can safely say it’s not that.”

She nodded, adjusting her glasses. “Yes, which means something else is going on. I believe that something may be wrong with you endocrine system. I’m going to refer you to a specialist.”

“My what?”

“Your endocrine system, it’s basically the glands and other parts of your body that regulate hormones.”

I started to feel a little scared. “How serious is this?”

“Hopefully not at all but it is outside my area of experience though. I’m referring you to colleague, she’s very good and I’ll make sure she sees you quickly.”

It’s never a good sign when they refer you to a specialist. 

I left the clinic feeling unsettled and on the edge of tears. Something was wrong with me and my doctor and a ton of tests hadn’t been able to tell me what was wrong. I had insurance but it wasn’t great. The two visits I’d just had probably tanked my budget for months. How was I going to be able to afford to see a specialist or goddess knew how many more expensive tests. It was easier to worry about money then think about what might seriously be wrong with my body. 

What if it was life threatening? What if I’d like but I was always going to feel achy and crummy. Hell what if it all meant I was infertile? I hadn’t texactly made any concrete plans in the having kids department but it was something I’d always thought I might want to do if I ever met the right woman and settled down. 

My thoughts swirled through my mind in an angry tangle and I couldn’t calm them. It got worse when I got back to my apartment. I poured a glass of wine and tried to settle in to watch Netflix. My thoughts kept turning and turning in my head. I needed a distraction or to at least get out of my apartment. 

I tugged on my coat and headed out. Without realizing it, I headed to my favorite bar. Soon enough, I was sitting out on the patio with a beer that had a name longer than I did and a giant soft pretzel. While most problems in life cannot be fixed by a fancy beer and a soft pretzel, they can be made to seem a bit more bearable. 

I ate the pretzel, drank the beer, and read a bunch of Buzz feed lists on my phone. I began to feel a bit calmer. 

When someone sat down across from me, I looked up sharply. I was in no mood to be hit on.

I was more than a bit surprised to see Adie. She was sitting there, the warm light from the bar turning the copper of her curls to flames. Her smile was as stunning as I remembered it, oddly enough, so was her outfit, from her battered leather jacket to her Tegan and Sarah T-shirt. I got an odd feeling that if I looked under the table, she’d be wearing the same jeans and cowboy boots. 

“Hi beautiful,” she said.

“Hi,” I knew I probably wasn’t looking my best. My ponytail was lopsided and I was still wearing the University of Texas shirt and old jeans I’d gone to the doctor wearing. I was pretty sure I smelled like that weird jelly from the ultrasound. I also had a yellow smiley face bandage on my arm form where the technician had drawn what seemed like a truly vast amount of blood. I also hadn’t shaved my legs or armpits in a couple days and I was wearing some of my least impressive cotton underwear with a strawberry print on then. My bra was one of my oldest and had a red wine stain shaped like australia on the left cup. Overall I knew I was looking my least impressive both clothed and not.

She sat down and damn if she didn’t have a winning smile, although I was struck by just how sharp her incisors looked.

“How are you?” 

“I’m good,” I lied and then wanted to cry.

She reached across the table to take my hand and proceeded to flirt as shamelessly as the first time we met. Apparently she wasn’t put off by the lopsided ponytail. 

She drew me in as easily as the first time, speaking little and listening patiently. When my beer was gone she grinned and said. “So how about it, you going to ask me home again?” 

In spite of everything, I did. 

For all I knew I was either dying or going into early menopause. I intended to gather my rosebuds while I still could.

It was a short walk back to my apartment and an even shorter tumble onto the bed, especially as she knew where we were going this time. She’d gotten my shirt off and was kissing a line down my stomach when she froze. 

“Shit,” she swore loudly.

I had a horrible thought that the residue from the ultrasound gel had left a weird taste.

She pressed a hand against my stomach and then looked up, dark eyes clouded with worry. “You’re pregnant.”

I just stared at her. Every time I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder, it did. “You are the second person today to say that. Why on earth do you think I’m pregnant?”

She sat back, not looking at me. “Um.”

Her avoidance made me feel vulnerable and I sat up and quickly tugged my shirt back on. 

Fear, anger, and confusion boiled up inside of me. “Seriously, why the hell do you think that?.” I may have yelled. 

She flinched. “Because I’m pretty sure I knocked you up.”

“Last time I checked you had a vagina.” Nothing was making any sense.

She blushed. “In this form, the one you imagined me into, I do. I’m not exactly, well, human or uh corporeal most of the time.”

Great, I had a crazy woman in my bed. “What are you then?”

She took a breath, which I would not have thought an incorporeal being would require. “The name that would make the most sense to you would be succubus.” 

I just blinked at her, “You’re a sex demon?” 

She nodded, “Pretty much. I’m mostly harmless, at least to people I like. I just draw a little life energy out of humans during sex, never enough to cause harm.

I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to laugh or get the hell out of that room. I remembered how tired I had been the morning after we had had sex. “What, so your basically a sex vampire?”

“I’m not sure I like the word vampire, but the description fits.” 

“And you got me pregnant?” 

She chewed on her lip, “Yes, I’m sorry about that. I’m not really sure how it happened. Normally that takes a magic circle and a whole ritual and stuff. It’s not something that should just happen by accident, at least not with a normal human. You’re not part demon yourself are you?” When I didn’t respond she kept going. “Are you maybe part witch or fey folk or selkie or lupin?” That still got her no response. “Have there been a lot of artists in your family? That’s often a sign of magical or supernatural blood. Damn, I should have tested your blood. What was I thinking?”

I had had enough. “I don’t know who or what you think you are but I want you out of my apartment.”

“Please, just listen…”

“Get out!”

She sighed. “I didn’t want to do this, but if it’s the only way you’ll believe me…” One moment an attractive young woman was sitting there, the next there was only shadows, well shadows with glowing red eyes and far too many teeth. 

I screamed scooting back against the headboard. In my panic I grabbed the first thing that came to hand, which was a glass of water. 

The moment the water hit the thing of nightmares flickered like a projected image. In the next instant a slightly soaked woman looked back at me through dark brown eyes. “For the record, flat seltzer water does not banish me.”

I felt myself drifting a little closer to laughing hysterically but I fought it down. “I’ll remember that. How do I get rid of you?”

“By asking nicely. Listen, I didn’t want to scare you and I will go away after this. I just really have to talk to you first.”

I crossed my arms. “Talk.”

“You’re pregnant, I can sense it.” 

“One very expensive ultrasound begs to differ.”

Her lips thinned in a very human like expression of worry. “What did it show?”

“Nothing. All the tests said I was pregnant but when the doctor wanded my stomach with the beepy machine she said nothing was there.”

“That’s not good. That means the fetus doesn’t have a physical form.”

“What, so I’m pregnant with some kind of energy demon baby.”

“Sort of.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically. “If only all my medical bills could be without a physical form too.”

She scooted a bit closer, reaching for my stomach again. I tensed but let her touch me. “Not great. This is bad, very bad. As a human, whatever mixed heritage you might have, you mostly have a physical form. Your soul and life force are only a small part of you. You can’t carry a baby who’s this incorporeal, not for very long.”

“I’ll miscarry?” There were far too many emotions running through me for me to even guess at what I was actually feeling.

She shook her head. “More like it will draw away all your life force before it can come to term and you’ll both die.”

I went cold. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.” 

“What the hell am I supposed to do? Go to Planned Parenthood and ask them to terminate a pregnancy that isn’t even on this physical plain?”

“They can’t help you.”

I drew my knees up and scooted away from her. “I really am dying then?”

“Yes.”

I felt tears start to fall.

She drew me into her arms. “But you don’t have to. I can help.”

I looked at her warily, “How?”

“I can take the fetus and carry it in your stead.”

“Demons can do that?” 

She grinned. “You’d be surprised what you can do when you’re not tied to blood and bone.”

“How does it work?”

She took my hand and laid it over my stomach and then laid her own over mine. “Give the baby a name and then say you give it to me, use my true name, at least the one humans have given me for this plain, Ardat.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“What do I name an unborn demon?”

“Any name you wish.” 

Somewhat absurdly I thought of my grandmother. “I name her Gretel Harper and I give her to you, her second mother, Ardat.” 

Whatever I said seemed to be enough I felt a warmth beneath my hand and when I looked down I saw that a golden light had passed into them. Everything within me ached to hold onto that light and never let it go.

Adie turned my hand and took the golden light into her own palm and then pressed that light against her own stomach, speaking softly in a language that barely seemed to have words. 

It was not until the glow faded, that I wondered what I had given away. Had she spoken the truth when she said the pregnancy would kill me or had she tricked me. Could she have even taken something else?

She must have seen the fear in my eyes because she said very gently. “All is well sweet human. Our child is safe and I will carry and protect her.”

I wanted to cry again, I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t expected or wanted to be pregnant and yet suddenly I was overcome with a deep sense of loss. “Will you stay?” 

“I can’t, not after the sun rises. My kind can’t walk in the light.”

“Will you bring her to me, when she’s born?”

“It’s too hard for my kind to travel between realms when they are young.”

“When she is strong enough then?”

She kissed my forehead. “Time for your kind and time for mine are not always the same dear one. I will make you no promise, I cannot be certain I can keep.”

“You will try?”

“Even if I brought her to you, she would be a thing of shadows, not a human child you could hold. I’m so very sorry, we made her without meaning to, and she is spun of soul not body.”

I felt that strange sense of loss deapon. “She’s mine though.”

“She is, and mine as well. She will be whole and well but she cannot be here.”

I began to cry and couldn’t stop, the strangeness of everything was too much. 

She kissed the tears from the edges of my eyes. “Forgive, sweet one, I would have given anything not to bring you sorrow.”

I almost said, “a bit late for that,” but I didn’t. Instead I let her hold me until I fell asleep.

I woke alone. I found blood in my underwear when I went to shower.

Sometimes, in the years that followed, I wondered if I’d dreamed the whole thing. I never told anyone and I didn’t bother going to the specialist my doctor recommended. My periods resumed as they always had. I went back to that bar many times, but I never again saw the woman with the copper curls and sharp smile. 

The exhaustion and nausea vanished but for months a nearly bone deep sadness clung to me. I felt as if I’d lost something as real as sunlight and ephemeral as love.Time passed, as time will, and with it the sadness eased and faded in the way of all grief and loss.

A year later I met the woman I would marry. She had eyes the color of a West Texas sky in summer and a smile just as warm. She was shy and kind and always made me feel loved. We danced to a Dolly Parton song at our wedding and began our life together in a little house a half an hours drive from the city because she wanted a yard and a dog.

We had our first daughter a few years later through the assistance of a fertility clinic. She was barren and I wasn’t, so I carried the pregnancy. Our daughter was born small and early. I nearly bled to death during the birth. Nothing in this world comes without a cost. 

The doctors whisked the baby away so quickly that I didn’t even get to hold her until days after she was born. For a time she was in a room full of boxes that looked like incubators with far too many tubes in her tiny arms. I was so afraid we would lose her but she got stronger day by day and in time they let us take her home.

My daughter was as frail in form as she was fierce in spirit. I would have never thought such a small creature could wail so loudly. She seemed to be nothing but big eyes and need, shrill and inconsolable. Few things are as exhausting as a premature baby with colic. 

I love her more than I had ever loved anything in my life. It was during those first, exhausted, terrifying months that I began to see something out of the corner of my eyes. It was always just a flicker of movement at the edge of the crib, a shadow that seemed sometimes for an instant to have form. Even more strangely, when I saw that shadow, I felt somehow reassured. 

I never told my wife, I thought she’d think I was losing my mind. As our daughter grew, sometimes I would hear her babbling, the way she often would to me. When I would come into the nursery, I would find her sitting up, staring into space and waving her small arms as if there was another child there.

Over the years, her tendency to talk to herself became more and more noticeable. The odd thing was, she only ever did it when she was alone. The parenting books said it was normal. Babies practice talking, children have imaginary friends. Deep down I knew that wasn’t what was going on. 

One day I finally asked. “Baby, who are you talking to?”

She tilted her small head as if I’d said something utterly ridiculous. She pointed at the shadows at the edge of the room. “Gretel. Mommy, my sister Gretel.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly not sure what to make of this story and I wrote the damn thing. It's too plot heavy for erotica, too gentle for horror but has too many horror elements for a regular short story. If you liked this story or just have some idea what to call it, let me know.
> 
> \--If you liked this story come check me out at catherineyoungbooks.com I have more writing there--


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